


A New Member of the Team

by agoodpersonrose



Series: The Cat Chronicles [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: David Rose is a Cat Person, Difficult Adjustment Period, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Post-Canon, References to past animal abandonment, Team, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, adopting a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose
Summary: David thinks he's being generous in his offer to adopt a pet, but it turns out their new team member is a little more of a handful than they had expected.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: The Cat Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065569
Comments: 27
Kudos: 159





	A New Member of the Team

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you seadeepy for helping me with the cat details !

“We need to talk.”

Those four words immediately cause Patrick's stomach to sink. He turns to look at his husband, his eyebrows furrowing with concern as he lets himself be led into the living area of their little cottage. His brain scans for things that might have gone wrong in the last few days; had he left his boots by the front door again? Has David found out about his new pair of costco jeans? Does he know that Patrick secretly ate the last of the doritos two nights ago while working late?

“About what?” he asks, trying not to overthink as David pushes him to take a seat next to him on the sofa, their entangled hands resting between them.

“Look, this has been a long time coming, and I know you were wary about bringing it up.”

Patrick holds his breath.

“But I think I’m ready, finally, and I think we should discuss ground rules.”

“Wha--”

Suddenly, David’s hand is yanked out of Patrick’s. He’s leaning over the small coffee table and pulling out-- a mood board?

“So, I am willing to get a cat with you. However, the cat must match the aesthetic of the cottage and of our lives. It shouldn’t be too long haired, because of my knits,” he glances at Patrick in the corner of his eyes, “Obviously. And I have complete creative control over the name.”

Patrick lets out a huff of relief and pulls his hands up to cover his face. “Oh my God, David,” he breathes, a small chuckle escaping. “You scared me there, I had no idea where that conversation was going.”

“Oh- I thought it was obvious, you’ve been sending hints for the last few months!”

Patrick frowns, looking up at his husband who is chewing on his lip nervously. “What hints?”

“Well, you said that the new weighted blanket was nice because it was soft like a cat’s fur--”

“Okay, um, I did say that, I wasn’t trying to _hint_ anything though--”

“And you always make a point to stop by the Jones’ farm and pet their cat!”

“It’s a sweet cat--”

“And, _and,_ out of the blue you suddenly felt the need to reveal to me that you’re not actually allergic to cats. I thought- I thought it was your way of like, hinting that you wanted to get a cat.”

Patrick widens his eyes and immediately softens them around the edges when he sees that David’s reaction is tinged with disappointment. “Okay,” he says, reaching out a hand to lead David to sit back down next to him. “I told you about the fake allergy thing because you were worried about me going into anaphylactic shock after petting the Jones’ cat.”

“So, I did all this for nothing, then?” David asks sadly, gesturing at the cardboard on Patrick’s lap.

Patrick looks down at it carefully. It is covered in stock photos of ‘acceptable’ black and white cats, approved accessories, including a bell for the collar, and a fancy black ceramic food bowl. There are a list of potential cat names running down one side with fabric swatches for the cat bed underneath each.

“You worked so hard on this, David,” Patrick says slowly, his thumb rubbing over the fabric matched with the name Givenchy. “Why does this one go with that name.”

“Well if we called the cat Givenchy then it deserves a high-quality fabric that the fashion designer uses a lot, so--”

“David,” Patrick breaths out, not even trying to hide the complete awe from his voice at his wonderful, creative husband. “You did all this for me?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly averse to the idea in the end,” David demurs, but he’s smiling all the while. “I thought this was something you wanted, and I wanted to get on board with it, because I want- I want you to have everything you want.”

“I do have everything I want, David. Because I have you.”

David breathes out a sigh of relief and rocks his head forward to rest it on Patrick’s shoulder.

“That being said,” he continues, running an idle hand down David’s back and pulling him closer. “If this is something you are interested in, then I would love to get a cat with you, David.”

“Even if I end up being really high strung about the cat beds and toys and acceptable breeds?”

“Especially then. It wouldn’t be the same otherwise.”

Patrick feels David’s chest rumble with a hum slightly against his own, and bites back a grin at the way it feels just like his husband is purring as he leans into the embrace. He reaches down and cups David’s face.

“David, I married you because I want to be with you, and because I love you. If you didn’t want a pet ever, then I would be happy, but if this is something you want to do then I am one hundred percent with you, all the way. We’re a team, right?”

“Yeah, a team,” David murmurs happily.

“And we’re a team that’s going to the championship. With plenty of training, and early starts, and tough diets, we’ll be able to win this--”

Patrick is cut off by David’s mouth against his, kissing and laughing all at once. “You made your point; I want to do this with you.”

Patrick grins and kisses him again. “Good, me too.”

He settles back against the couch and pulls David on top of him, holding him close and kissing the side of his face.

“Hey, David,” Patrick says after a few moments of silence.

“Mhm.”

“Do you reckon they would make a sports jersey in a cat size?”

“What?” David asks, his eyes twinkling as he shifts up to look at his husband properly, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Well, we’re getting a new team member, that means we need to get a new kit for the cat. A kit cat as it were; hey! Maybe that will be its name; KitKat!”

“That is not on the pre-approved list,” David says, but he’s smiling all the same.

“Mm, I forgot about the pre-approved list,” Patrick hums contently and leans in for another kiss.

***

Only a week later, and they find themselves at the local animal shelter. David is gripping Patrick’s hand tight, as if he’s nervous, and Patrick periodically squeezes it, giving him questioning looks to check in. Every time, David nods, and gives him a small smile.

“You know, if we don’t find out cat today then we can always come back,” Patrick says as they enter the first room. Rows of glass boxes filled with a plethora of different cats with varied hair lengths, and ages, and behaviours.

David looks to Patrick with wide eyes. “I know, but I think we’ll find them today. I just feel it.”

“Okay, David.”

They wander past the first few boxes, all filled with pristine kitties, many of them already reserved for other potential adopters. Patrick is overwhelmed by all the choices but soon enough, David is tugging on his arm and pulling him towards the end.

“Look at this one,” he whispers, looking at the bundle of fur with an uncharacteristically contemplative expression.

Inside, a small black cat, curled up in a ball to protect itself sits in the back corner with its back to the window.

“Um, excuse me, what can you tell us about this cat?” Patrick asks the volunteer leading them alone.

The volunteer, whose name tag reads Mariah, suddenly looks sad. “This little one has been here a while. She was found by the road near Elmdale, we assume she had been abandoned by her previous owners.”

“Why hasn’t she been adopted already?”

“Well, we have had some issues with her lashing out and biting her owners. When she gets excitable, she can get quite rowdy. There have been three attempts to foster or adopt her but every single one has brought her back.”

“Can we see her?” David asks, and Patrick is surprised to see his eyes foggy with tears.

The volunteer nods but looks conflicted. “She doesn’t really like being around the other animals, but I can move you to a private room if you’d prefer?”

“That’s fine, we don’t have any other pets,” David says, dismissing her concern with a wave of the hand. 

They step back while the cat’s container is moved to a small room off to the side, with some fake grass and a few cat toys. Mariah opens the cage and steps back.

“She might not come out for a while so you may have to wait,” she says. “I’ll be just through the door if you need anything just come and get me.”

“Thank you,” David says, not even looking up at her as he crouches and then takes a seat on the grass. Patrick follows with a small frown at his husband’s behaviour, kneeling next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure this is the right decision?” he asks, worried about David already getting attached. “We aren’t exactly experienced, so is a difficult cat really where we want to--”

“Hello, you,” David murmurs, ignoring him, and Patrick turns to see the small cat sticking its head out of the container, looking around curiously. Its eyes are dark, and she has a little scar on her chin.

When she spots the two men in the room, she lowers herself to the ground and growls lowly, backing back into the cage. David and Patrick both stay very still where they are, and after a moment she seems to relax and steps towards them again, clearly unsure.

David holds his hand out towards the cat, who hisses, but then pauses, looking contemplative.

“David--”

“Nobody wants her,” David replies softly, not looking away from the cat who has started to creep towards his outstretched hand. “If she doesn’t want us, then I’ll get over it, but she deserves to be wanted.”

Patrick bites his lip and nods, shuffling backwards to sit by his husbands back.

The cat seems to decide there is no threat after smelling David’s hand, and deigns herself to be petted. David rubs her head and ears softly and raises an eyebrow when she makes a grumbling noise at him for more attention.

“That is a very rude habit,” he mutters. "That's no way to speak to new people," but continues to pet her.

After a few moments, she seems to tire of being petted, and turns her attention to Patrick, who slowly reaches out his own hand. She immediately hisses at him, reaching out a paw to scratch his hand, just slightly drawing blood.

“Oh, are you--”

“It’s okay, look,” Patrick gestures to where the cat has hidden behind David’s knee, crouched low with her tail lashing against the floor as she prepared to pounce. She jumps at Patrick’s sleeve, tumbling over it in the process and ending up on her back with her claws digging into the waterproof fabric of his jacket.

“Is she-- playing?”

“I think so,” Patrick replies, smiling just slightly despite the pain as she nips at his hands.

When he looks up, David is staring at him with wide eyes. “Patrick--”

“I know, don’t worry,” Patrick comforts, laughing as the cat detaches herself and shakes herself off, acting as if she had never been caught doing something as childish as rough housing. She moves to sit a few steps away and licks her paw, looking up at them every so often with an aloof stare.

They spend a while watching her as she moves around the room, circling them with clear distaste before finally settling down in between the two of them to rest.

“How are we getting on in here?” Mariah asks when she returns to find the apparently ‘difficult’ cat curled up in a ball between the two men.

“Hi,” Patrick says. “We were just wondering what this one’s name is?”

“Oh, her name is Rose.”

Patrick turns to David with wide eyes, earning a matching expression and smile in return.

“We want her,” Patrick says, turning to the volunteer who seems surprised and nods slowly.

“I’ll go and get the paperwork sorted.”

Rose is packed up into a travelling case and deposited in the car to go home, which she doesn’t seem to enjoy if the wailing from the back seat means anything. David keeps twisting in his seat to look back at her, turning to his husband with an upset expression even as Patrick assures him that she’ll be fine.

When they finally get back into the cottage, Rose decides to find the corner furthest away from her new owners and hide. Patrick tells David to let her and set about putting out all her things.

A large grey cushion is placed in the corner of the room, with blankets in all the ‘acceptable cat places’, the black feeding bowl and the most tasteful coloured cat toys David could find are scattered around.

They leave her to stay in the corner of the guest room for the rest of the afternoon, with David heading upstairs periodically to check she hasn’t gotten lost or stuck anywhere even though Patrick insists it won’t be necessary.

So comes the adjustment period. Rose hisses whenever they get close. She scratches and bites at Patrick’s hands whenever they come within her space. She knocks down photo frames and pulls her bed around the room as she pleases, completely ruining David’s layout, just generally getting underfoot and being a nuisance.

Patrick is momentarily concerned that David will grow frustrated, but he remains besotted with the flighty cat. Patrick himself can’t help but compare Rose’s lashing out with David’s own adjustment period whenever change happens and finds himself feeling very fond of the angry animal, willing to put up with constant scratches on his hands and arms from her excitable behaviour.

“She is going to get comfortable, right?” David asks one night over dinner. Rose had had a difficult day, and had bitten Patrick hard enough to draw blood (and make his eyes tear up, though he staunchly denies that that happened), broken a vase that Patrick had gotten as a wedding gift from his grandparents, and gone to the toilet on David’s favourite plush white rug in the middle of the room.

“I don’t know, David. The volunteer said that there would be an adjustment period, but also, she has been returned several times. Maybe it’ll always be like this,” he says tiredly. “Would you want to take her back if she doesn’t change?”

David shakes his head energetically. “Um, would you?” he asks, suddenly seeming unsure.

Patrick shakes his head in return. “No, she’s a Rose. Her place is with us.”

David sighs in relief and goes to dig into his chicken, only to jump back when Rose zooms up across the table, her bell jangling all the while, and steals the whole chicken breast from his plate, dragging it across the floor and pulling it backwards up the stairs out of sight before either man can react.

Patrick looks to David, fearing the worst, but as soon as he catches eye contact with his husband, they both burst into peals of laughter.

“She just--” he splutters between breaths. “Do we not feed her enough?”

“Here, have half of mine,” Patrick says, cutting his in half and passing the bigger part to David who accepts it gratefully.

One night, almost three months since they adopted Rose, Patrick is woken up around 3am to the sound of the cat crying. He turns to David and finds him already heading over to the door and opening it. Rose jets into the room and jumps onto the bed, immediately cosying down in the warm sheets between David and Patrick.

“What--”

David rubs his eye and returns to the bed, settling back down in his spot. Once he’s back in position, Rose squirms up the bed until she’s on the pillows and stretches out, one leg hitting Patrick in the face, and her front paws caught in David’s hair.

Between periodically closing his eyes to protect himself from Roses vicious back claws, Patrick catches eye contact with David and smiles. Across the bed, they each reach out a hand, tangling their fingers and resting them on the mattress between them.

“Some team, huh?” Patrick murmurs in the small room, earning a light kick in retribution from the cat at his head.

“Still not getting matching jerseys,” David mutters, curling up tighter and closing his eyes.

“But, David--”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! 🐱


End file.
